After Hello (3 page)

“I don’t have a story.”

“Sure you do. Everyone does.”

“Mine is lame.”

Sam shrugged. “You’ll never know that if you don’t tell it. Maybe Vanessa’s story is the lame one and yours is the one filled with zombies and black magic and stuff.”

I laughed. “I doubt that. I don’t even like zombies.”

“But you
do
like pirates. And stories about their treasure maps.” He raised an eyebrow as though daring me to contradict him.

“Everyone likes pirates.”

“Law-abiding sailors don’t.”

I mulled that over. “True,” I granted. “But law-abiding sailors don’t bury treasure, either.”

“You might be surprised,” Sam said.

“I’m still not sure a story for a story is a fair trade.”

“Are you kidding? That’s totally a fair trade. It’s the very definition of a fair trade.”

“Sorry, not interested. Try again.”

He stopped in the shadow of an enormous, beautiful gray building. The roof was a light shade of green. Flags snapped above us in the breeze. “How’s this: I’ll finish telling you the story of Vanessa and the pirates, and, in exchange, you let me buy you lunch.”

Chapter 4

Sam

Her face turned a dusky pink color. She shifted her weight on her feet and hooked a strand of long, blondish-brown hair behind her ear. “Oh, I couldn’t let you do that.”

“You won’t be.”

Sam saw her eyebrows start to twitch up and answered before she could say anything.

“You aren’t
letting
me do anything. It’s a trade, remember?”

“But I thought you wanted a fair trade. What do you get out of it?”

He shrugged. “Lunch. And some company.”
And a chance to find out more about you,
he thought.

Still she hesitated. He wasn’t used to that. Usually when he offered something, the girl said yes right away.

“It’s almost one—past lunch, but not by much. And I’m willing to bet that, even if you had breakfast this morning, you’re probably hungry by now.”

She pressed her hand to her stomach as though afraid he had heard the growl, which he had. “Okay, I guess,” she said. “Deal.”

“Good,” Sam said and turned immediately toward the building’s doors.

A doorman in a long burgundy coat and white gloves sprang into action, smoothly opening the door and nodding them inside.

“Wait—we’re having lunch here?” Sara’s voice cracked on the last word.

“Welcome to the Plaza Hotel,” the doorman said as Sam led the way into the opulent lobby.

“Business first, then lunch,” Sam said. “I told my brother I’d meet him here at one.”

Sara tugged at the hem of her dark red T-shirt and hurriedly ran her fingers through her hair.

Sam cut diagonally across the lobby, bypassing the check-in counter with a single wave to the afternoon manager and heading directly for the gleaming concierge desk in the corner. Will was on duty, talking to an elderly couple and looking none too happy about it.

“Are you sure we can’t just walk to the Statue of Liberty?” the man was asking Will.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Will said in the tone of a man who had said it more than once already. “Considering it’s on an island. Like I said, the fastest way would be to take the A train south to—”

“Oh, the subway?” the woman said, placing her hand on her husband’s arm. They were wearing matching I Heart NY shirts. “I don’t know about that—”

“Then perhaps you’d like me to call a taxi for you?” Will suggested, a strain appearing in his smile.

“A taxi would be terribly expensive, though, wouldn’t it?” the woman said, pulling her purse closer to her chest.

Will looked up as Sam approached, his nod acknowledging an equal, but his eyes begging for help.

Sam reached into his bag and pulled out a pamphlet. He stepped up to the side of the counter. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, flashing a white smile, “but have you seen the Panorama yet?” He set the pamphlet down and slid it a fraction of an inch closer to the tourists. “It’s a little out of the way, but it’s a wonderful place to visit if you want to see the whole city all at once. There is a perfect reconstruction of the entire island—but done in miniature. You can see everything from uptown to the Statue of Liberty. You’ll never look at New York the same way again.”

The man picked up the slick white flyer, flipped it over, and raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise. “There’s a half-off coupon, too.” He handed it to his wife. “What do you think, sweetie?”

“I think it’s exactly what we were looking for.” She gave Will a pointed glare, then reached over and squeezed Sam’s arm. “Thank you for the recommendation, dear.”

The couple left, heads together, planning out their afternoon.

Will leaned his elbows on the counter and dropped his head in his hands. “Shoot me, Sam. I’m begging you, just shoot me.”

“Can’t today, Will, sorry.” Sam drummed his fingers absently against the marble countertop.

Will groaned and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Tourists,” he spat. “They couldn’t make up their minds what they wanted to do—sightsee, go eat, catch a show—and every suggestion I made, they shot down. You heard them—it was like that for
hours.
This is New York, for crying out loud. There are a thousand things to do—pick one!”

“At least they left happy,” Sam said.

“Thanks to you.” Will straightened up, peering at Sam through narrow eyes. “The Panorama? Isn’t that in Queens?”

Sam shrugged. “I bet the cab fare there is still cheaper than it is to Battery Park. Besides, it’s an amazing sight. You should go sometime. I learned about it from a friend of a friend of . . .”

“A friend,” Will finished. “Yeah, I know. You never divulge your sources.”

“If I did, I’d be out of a job.”

Will grimaced. “You could always have mine.”

Sam laughed. “And direct tourists to the Statue of Liberty every day? No, thanks.”

“Some friend you are. And speaking of friends,” Will started, his attention sliding from Sam to Sara, a wicked curiosity gleaming in his blue eyes.

“Will, this is Sara without the
h.
She’s a tourist, but don’t hold that against her. Sara, this is Will. He’s quite the ladies’ man—or so he thinks—and you should totally hold that against him.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sara said, holding out her hand for Will to shake.

Will did more than that, his fingers lingering on her wrist, his professional smile softening into a grin. His shoulders slouched forward into an assumed intimacy.

The ornate grandfather clock in the lobby chimed the hour and Sam pushed away from the counter, deftly extracting Sara’s hand from Will’s and angling his shoulder between them.

“And that’s my cue.” He turned toward a set of elevator doors hidden in the wall. “Don’t want to be late.”

Will gestured with a sweep of his arm. “Be my guest. Though, a word of advice? Be careful. She’s been on the warpath all day. Rumor has it that she made Rebecca cry—twice.”

“I’m always careful,” Sam said. He stepped forward, Sara right behind him, when Will cleared his throat almost apologetically.

“C’mon, Sam, you know the rules. No one goes upstairs unless they’re on the list.”

Sam turned back to the counter. “But she
is
on the list.”

Will raised one eyebrow and held out a clipboard.

Sam took the board, grabbed a pen from Will’s desk, and wrote
IOU One Free Favor.
“See. She’s right here—Sara.” He handed the clipboard back to Will. “Without the
h.
”

Will squinted at the paper. “Hmm, I can’t quite make out her last name . . .”

Grabbing the clipboard, Sam crossed out
one
and wrote in
two.
“Happy?”

“Extremely. Have fun. And good luck.” Will slid his ID card through a scanner and the elevator doors opened with an austere chime.

Sam stepped inside, pulling Sara in with him. There was only one button on the panel, which Sam pushed.

The doors closed and the elevator ascended silently toward the top floor. “Stay with me. And once we get off the elevator, don’t talk to anyone.”

Sara’s green eyes revealed a mix of nervousness and excitement.

He leaned closer and squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.” He tried to ignore the warmth of her fingers against his, but not very hard.

Chapter 5

Sara

Silence filled the elevator. I couldn’t even really hear the hum of the machinery as the cables pulled us upward. Of course, the beating of my heart sounded like thunder in my ears, so that could have caused some of my sudden deafness.

He was holding my hand. I was afraid to move too much in case he realized his mistake and stepped away from me.

No sweaty palms. No sweaty palms,
I prayed, concentrating on keeping my hands as cool and dry as the desert. As if I had any control over that. But I had to try—he was
holding my hand.

A nervous feeling skittered up and down the back of my throat, tasting like questions. Why was he holding my hand? Was it an accident? Had he forgotten? Did he expect something from me? How come no one had ever told me how exhilarating it could be to suddenly be holding hands with a strange boy?

And Sam was strange—but not in a creepy, gotta-get-outta-here way. His strangeness seemed to stem more from the turn of his conversation and his uncanny way of looking at people as though he knew exactly what they were thinking. I hoped he didn’t know what I was thinking at the moment, which was a jumbled mess of
hooray
and
uh-oh.

I opted for
hooray.
Besides, Dad had told me to have fun today.

“Sorry about Will,” Sam said quietly.

“What?” I blurted out, hoping he hadn’t noticed my distractedness.

Sam’s smile was as quiet as his words. Of course he had noticed; I had a feeling he noticed everything.

“Will is nice, but not someone you’d want to get involved with.”

“Because he’s a ladies’ man?” I thought back to Will’s bright blue eyes and wondered how many girls had fallen into them.

“Because he can be careless.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Said by a girl who has probably never had her heart broken.”

I felt my face heat up. “I’m seventeen. I’ve had plenty of boyfriends,” I lied. I didn’t know why I did it. I wasn’t usually a liar, but I didn’t want to admit that Sam had seen right to the heart of me. No serious boyfriend—yet. No real first kiss, either. And besides, I
had
had my heart broken—but that wasn’t a story I wanted to tell.

He let the lie slide, though again I got the impression that he knew more than he was letting on.

The doors opened. When we stepped out, I thought for a moment I’d gone to heaven. A sharp white light filled the hallway from floor to ceiling. Thick white carpet unrolled before us, leading to a set of white wooden double doors at the other end of the hallway. I could see the polished gleam of the gold handles from where I stood. A handful of gilt-framed mirrors hung over narrow silver tables that were lining the walls. On the tables stood crystal vases filled with white lilies, the green stems a stark blast of color.

“What is this place?” I whispered.

Before Sam could answer, the large double doors swung open and a short girl in a blue and gray uniform ran through them. Literally
ran
in an all-out track-and-field sprint like the building was burning down behind her.

A howling followed her—a long, mournful wail that set the hairs on the back of my neck to shivering.

“Oh, no,” Sam murmured. He dropped my hand in time to catch the fleeing girl right before she crashed into his arms, sobbing and quivering.

“I’ve had it,” she choked out. “I can’t take it anymore, Sam. She’s a—”

“I know, Rebecca, I know,” Sam interrupted, but gently. He reached into his bag and pulled out a water bottle. He handed it to the girl, who immediately twisted off the cap and gulped down a swallow, then two. “What happened this time?”

She barked out a laugh, the water on her lips making them glisten as brightly as the tears in her eyes. “What
didn’t
happen? Her lunch was late. Her champagne was the wrong temperature. Bootsie’s food dish wasn’t full to the brim. Take your pick.” She wiped at her eyes with the back of her wrist. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, I swear. But I was in such a rush to get back from the kitchen and I didn’t see Bootsie—she must have followed me, I don’t know—and I tripped and stepped on the dog’s leg . . . and I heard something snap.” She shook her head, her eyes slightly unfocused. “She said she was going to fire me, Sam. I can’t do this anymore . . . I gotta get out of here.”

“I know,” Sam said again. “Let me talk to Paul. I’ll see what I can do.”

She laughed again, but the sound was hollow and strained. “Can you set a dog’s broken leg?”

The howling rose in pitch and volume, and all three of us looked toward the partially open doors at the end of the hallway.

Sam lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Never tried. But you never know.”

Rebecca seemed to see me for the first time and her mouth thinned. She looked from me to Sam and back again. “I don’t know you, but you shouldn’t be here. Not today. Not any day. If she sees you, there’s no telling what she’ll do.” She grabbed my arm and turned me toward the elevator doors.

I shot a desperate glance at Sam. Maybe Rebecca was right and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but the only person I knew in the whole hotel was Sam. I heard my dad’s voice in the back of my head reminding me that I didn’t even really know Sam that well, but I ignored the caution. I didn’t want to go with Rebecca. I didn’t want to wait in the lobby with Will. I wanted to stay with Sam.

Sam, for his part, didn’t hesitate. He placed his hand over Rebecca’s and, just like that, he had set me free. “I can handle it. Trust me.”

Rebecca downed the last of the water and looked at Sam with narrowed eyes. “I bet you say that to everyone—right before everything falls apart.”